The Guardians of Childhood and the Christmas War
by Decadent-Magpie
Summary: Pitch has returned with a vengeance. Now he wishes to bring the Guardians to their knees and destroy Christmas itself, and to do this he must enlist other dark spirits to his cause. Meanwhile Jack must learn the limits of a Guardian's power when Jamie's life is threatened and Bunny struggles with old ghosts better left forgotten. Potential Slash, maybe. Story renamed.
1. Old threats return

Disclaimer: While the characters pretty much belong to folklore, the incarnation used here belong to William Joyce (who has become one of my favourite writers) and I am merely playing with them. However characters that do not appear in the movie or the books are pretty much my take on characters and their mythology.

And so we begin:

**Chapter 1: In which an Old Threat returns.**

Darkness.

It didn't surprise him in the end that it would be nearly all he knew as he lay there, trapped. After planning and waiting for so long he had tasted victory only for it to be stolen away at the final hurdle.

It stung.

No, it didn't just sting.

It **hurt**.

Did he really deserve to be trapped down here?

All he wanted was to be seen and believed in. He smiled a bitter smile as the image of the laughing winter spirit came to the front of his thoughts. Oh the irony that they gave Frost the one thing he wanted, but condemned him. But locked here in this pit gave him more than enough time. Time he spent in reflection, seeing where he went wrong and planning where he wouldn't fail again.

Days quickly became weeks. The weeks slipped into months which slowly melted into years. But what is time to a spirit who had spent so long being ignored and invisible?

Ten years had passed until he was strong enough to escape. His nightmares were once again under his control and he would spread their fear across the four corners of the Earth. He knew that belief was only part of the Guardians' strength; the other part was being able to count on one another. Well he had his own allies he could call upon.

Under the bed, within the quiet forest darkness stirred.

* * *

The bus was caught in traffic. Traffic that had been caused by a "freak snow storm". Jamie couldn't help but grin at the thought of Jack's laugh as he flew through the street causing mischief. At 17 he should have stopped believing, but to be fair it's not as though he was ever given the chance.  
Even after that fateful sleigh ride ten years ago, Jack still went out of his way to remind Jamie of his existence, and Jamie was powerless to resist indulging the Guardian of Fun.

His friends had all grown up and gotten new hobbies (except for Cupcake who still secretly loved unicorns), and they occasionally teased him whenever he got excited at the first sight of frost. Even Sophie had stopped believing soon after the discovery of make-up, and the realisation that boys aren't so icky after all.

Jack would likely be waiting in his room. Jamie always found it strange that Jack was able to bypass physical barriers even though he knew that he was a sprit. To be honest, after all this time he viewed him as one of his closest friends and reminding himself that Jack was an embodiment of winter sometimes escaped him. It was about three stops until he had to get off, and he was enjoying listening to his music when something outside the window caught his eye. A quick flicker of blue, that darted through the snow and into the forest.

So Jack wanted to play did he?

Smirking, Jamie got off at the next stop and headed for the forest. If Jack wanted to play a trick on him then Jamie had a few of his own. His stepped up his pace and let a quick chuckle as he gave chase to the spirit.

* * *

Jack sat patiently on Jamie's bed. Well patiently for him. He'd already frosted the windows over with interesting patterns that inexplicably spelled out "Jack Frost Rules, Jamie Drools". He was rather proud as he heard Jamie's parents wonder over how on earth something like that could occur. The many wonders of how grown-ups could ignore what was right in front of their faces.

After that he'd played around with Abby for a bit, although the old girl was getting on, and after many years of harmless torment she'd gotten quite used to the winter spirit's tricks.

Stroking her gently he was starting to get bored of waiting, but it shouldn't be too long. Jamie's school should have let out half an hour ago; it took about three quarters of an hour for him to get home so it shouldn't be much of a wait. He didn't meet Jamie at the school, last year he'd done that and to Jamie's classmates it seemed like the boy was talking to himself and he'd been teased rather nastily. Jack tensed at the hurtful memory, he'd made the one boy slip on ice, nothing serious but Jamie had told him off, and he regretted upsetting the boy who had become a little brother to him.

Lazily tapping his staff on the floor, he created an ice scene of Bunny being chased by a younger Abby, which was rewarded by a quiet huff of approval. The Easter

Spirit was still sore over the memory, and even more so when Jack teased him.

Scratching Abby behind the ears, Jack sat back up and looked out the window.

"Well girl, we'll get him when he actually gets here."

* * *

Jamie had ran as fast as he could after the darting blue figure, despite being light the snow was slowing him down and Jack was widening the distance between them. The wind must have been helping Jack cheat at this chase.

"Right." Jamie panted as he paused to catch his breath. Looking around he saw the outline of Jack's figure in the distance, knowing he needed to be quicker he placed his school bag against the base of a tree. He'd pick it up later; or rather get Jack to after making him run all the way out here. Plan formed he burst into a run and the chase was back on, it was lucky that he was part of the track team or he'd not be able to catch up. Even then, with the blanket of snow, he could feel himself getting warm as his pulse started to beat in his ears.

"Jack?" he called out, hoping that the winter spirit really wasn't playing a trick. Jack wouldn't be that cruel would he?

"Over here!" came the reply.

Cautiously, Jamie pushed through some thin bushes and saw Jack standing by the edge of a lake, glowing dimly in the dying light. The lake somehow looked familiar, almost as if he'd been here before.

Something had happened here, right?

Jamie reached up and touched his head, he wasn't sure. He couldn't remember being here before.

Why was he even out here?

Wait... he came to see Jack hadn't he?

He looked around and Jack had waded into the pool, up to his knees and appeared in a state of serenity.

"Jack...where's your staff?"

Jack always had his staff, didn't he? He wasn't sure anymore.

Jack slowly opened his eyes and smiled. "I don't need my staff when I'm going swimming, stupid."

"Swimming?" Jamie asked, his voice was uncertain and he couldn't focus. It was winter wasn't it?

"Yeah, swimming." Jack repeated. "Come on kid, it's a perfect day to swim. And the last one in... Is a lousy kangaroo."

Maybe, maybe he should go for a swim. Jack was right, a swim would be great right now and he needed it after the last few weeks.

Slowly, Jamie waded into the water, and Jack's smile was predatory.

* * *

It'd been way over an hour now. The sun had nearly dropped below the horizon and he was starting to worry. Maybe he should go and find Jamie, he hadn't made it snow that heavy but the kid could still feel the cold. He hopped over the window and quickly unlatched it. Abby began barking behind him, and he spun around to greet his late friend. What he was met with was anything other than friendly.

* * *

In his workshop in the wintry peaks of Lapland, Nicholas St. North, Guardian of Wonder had a bad feeling in his belly. Despite attempts by numerous cynics and a disgruntle pooka to prove that it was nothing more than a bad case of indigestion, North was certain that something very troubling was afoot.

The keen instincts he garnered and honed during his life as a marauder before becoming a guardian gave him the experience to know when a hunch was one to follow. Lumbering deliberately from his workshop to the Globe Room, the elves were quick enough to make way and several yetis poked their heads out from various rooms to watch the passing guardian.

He was hoping that Manny would be able to shed some light on the matter, and hopefully guidance.

"Man in Moon," the old spirit addressed his friend, "I have bad feeling in my belly. Is something wrong?"

On the panel, familiar moonbeams danced lunar patterns on the floor, conveying the Man in the Moon's thoughts. North's eyes grew large as the grown face of Jamie appeared on the panel.

"What is matter with Jamie?"

Concern etched its way onto North's face; all of the five guardians took special interest in the boy ever since the incident with Pitch. The boy had helped defeat one of the greatest evils in the world, and the Guardians would forever be in his debt. The concern became cemented when images of black sand swirled and consumed the boy's portrait.

"Pitch is free once more?" North asked, more to himself than anyone else. If so then...Jamie.

No Pitch was the Nightmare King, he scared children he wouldn't attack them? Would he?

There were few spirits out there that survived and flourished on the negative beliefs of children and humanity, but there were even less capable of causing true harm. Pitch might be able to give someone a bad night's sleep or make them afraid but not even he would stoop so low?

Suddenly for the first time in many centuries, Nicholas St. North felt uncertain.

"Yetis! Swords! Globe! NOW!" he bellowed and stampeded from the Globe Room. They had no time to call the others and less time to act.

Armed with his globe and a handful of yeti warriors, Nicholas St. North opened a portal to Jamie Bennett, praying that he was not too late.

* * *

Jack flew through the night, the wind urging him ever faster as Pitch's words slithered through his thoughts like a noxious poison.

_If you hurry little Jack, you might get to see him one last time before the light fades from his eyes._

He hoped that he wasn't too late, he'd never forgive himself if Jamie...if Jamie... No Jamie would be okay, he had to be. Jack was a guardian now and he would not let a monster like Pitch murder his friend.

_Come on wind_, he thought, _just a little faster!_

He cleared some aspens and came to a lake. He looked around and struggled to see anything until he saw something in the water, floating lifelessly.

Rushing into the water, staff abandoned by the side, Jack swam as fast as he could and hefted Jamie out of the freezing water and onto dry land. Jamie had gone dead weight and his sodden clothes held him down more as Jack struggled, his upper body strength minimal compared to others.

Once on solid ground, Jack ripped Jamie's jacket from him and threw it to the side. He tried to think of something, anything he could do to help the poor kid. Remembering seeing some people doing some kind of manoeuvre to help people Jack began to press on Jamie's chest. Pressing without any knowledge of whether what he was doing helped, tears began to sting at his eyes as he frantically tried to help the drowned kid.

He couldn't let Jamie die this way. He just couldn't.

Jack was so focused and hysterical in the situation he lost awareness of his surroundings and lashed out when strong arms grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him from Jamie. Arms, legs and head flailing to escape, Jack was nearly deaf to the commanding voice of Santa until the former Cossack smacked him with the palm of his hand.

"Jack we here to help. Let me, I know technique." He informed, not even looking to the winter spirit as he set to work resuscitating Jamie's limp form. Many minutes passed that seemed like days to Jack as North administered CPR, slowly though he could see the hope fade from the other Guardians eyes.

No...

As tear began to trail down Jack's face, Jamie Bennett coughed the water from his lungs and Jack began to laugh as he ran towards the boy. Having rubbed the tears from his eyes, he cradled the taller boy's silent form in his and calmed himself on the rhythmic rise and fall of Jamie's chest. Sparing a glance at North, Jack felt his chest warm as the other guardian smiled.

North then knelt down by Jack, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jack, we must get Jamie to safety. Pitch is after him and we must get him to where it is safe."

Nodding in understanding, Jack went to pick Jamie up but was stopped as North moved in-between them. "I will carry him; you are tired and must carry staff. Come we will go to Santoff Clausen and get him in warmth."

Not waiting for a reply, North scooped Jamie up in his arms and moved towards the yetis, of which Phil help a snow globe. Jack rushed to grab his staff and quickly followed North through the portal, glad that for now, Jamie was safe.

* * *

As the portal closed and darkness filled the glade, Pitch stepped out from the shadows and glowered. The boy was supposed to have died and now that big lug had gotten involved and ruined everything.

"That overweight busybody." he bit.

"How dare he get in the way of my revenge. And you," he spat, and turning to face a gnarled oak "you were supposed to make sure he died."

Sat on a large root of the tree a cloaked figure smiled as he watched a small blue flame flicker within a lantern. As he moved his face closer, the flame shrank and fell to the bottom.

"What hope do they have without this, Old Friend?" he asked.

In the pale light of the moon, Pitch smiled in triumph.

* * *

Word Count: 2399

So thoughts on the first chapter? Please let me know what you think, good or bad I'd appreciate some constructive criticism.

It's my first time writing fanfiction so I'd like to know whether I'm doing an alright job and if not I'd love for tips on how to improve.

But thank you for reading anyway!

Decadent-Magpie


	2. Thoughts and memories

**A/N:**Hi all sorry for taking so long to update (last week of uni and deadlines galore!) but yes thank you to everyone who's reviewed and following the story I hope I can keep you entertained for a while! ^_^**  
**

**Chapter 2: In which the plot thickens.**

The world continued to spin. No matter how many lives came to a sudden and untimely end the Earth kept of spinning. Neither Time nor Nature waited for anyone and everything continued to move on. To move forward you cannot look back, and if you keep looking back you can never move forward and you remain trapped within the past.

The Warren was fairly quiet at this time of year, save for the silent pitter patter of the occasional egg. It was a rare occasion that E. Aster Bunnymund allowed himself a well earned break. Since his terrifying brush with a lack of belief a decade ago the Guardian of Hope had continued to outdo himself year after year to ensure that he never felt the utter emptiness he had on that day. His preparations were well in advance nowadays and by his reckoning he was a good three weeks ahead of schedule (winter spirit mischief factored in) and it was shaping up to be his best Easter yet.

Sitting on a grassy gnoll, the pooka let out a cathartic sigh as he began to massage his aching legs. As he felt the tension being worked out of his muscles his eyes closed in satisfaction. Aside from his Easter preparations, Bunnymund, like the other Guardians had taken to visiting children more often. In particular he had begun to spend more time with Jack, who had been helping him reconnect with many of the children, and in turn Bunny had been helping to teach Jack more about the spirits that existed and what it meant to be a guardian.

They had visited a terminally ill child a few weeks back. The little girl had leukaemia and they had spent the night entertaining her with snow animals and some specially designed eggs by Bunnymund, not that they would ever tell North. The Guardian of Winter would not be impressed and would likely accuse the Pooka of attempting to weasel in on Christmas.

He smiled as he remembered how the girl had laughed and petted the menagerie of animals. Jack really had a talent for making the little tykes happy and Bunny knew he could try for a thousand years and never be as instinctive as Jack. But his centre was Hope, not Fun and that is what he strived to bring to the world.

The smile on his face became sad as he remembered the girl asking if he could make her well again. It broke his heart.

_I'm sorry girl, I can't do it right now but rest assured I'm workin' on it. _

Jack had confronted him later and aside from the day where Bunny lost belief, he had never argued so harshly with the winter spirit.

_You lied to her! _Jack had snarled. _You have magic why can't you cure her!_

Tears stung at Bunny's eyes even now.

_Because I can't Jack. As much as I would want nothing more than to write the wrongs of the world I can't. I can't break what's natural Jack, no matter how much I want to. _Bunny had answered. _I can only bring the hope to humanity to work towards a cure, if I used my magic to change the way of things then I wouldn't be able to stop._

Jack had left shortly afterwards, calling him a coward and everything under the sun. They hadn't spoken in weeks since then, and it still hurt when he recalled Jack's anger.

Bunnymund missed the other spirit. Slowly he stood back up and went back to his work. For a moment he thought he heard faint laughter. He could only hope that with time Jack might understand and find it in his heart to forgive him.

* * *

Santoff Clausen was in uproar. North had near enough demolished a path as he stormed passed everything in his way, carrying Jamie to the medical wing.

"Christmas is nothing when life is in danger." He declared and Jack found himself lightly jogging in order to keep up with the lumbering behemoth.

Butterflies fluttered in Jack's stomach as he worried, his eyes never wavering once from the mop of light brown hair that was being carried like a ragdoll in North's arms.

* * *

Night had fallen many hours ago on the Old World and Sanderson Mansnoozie had almost finished a good night's work. Not that his work ever truly finished but he wasn't one to complain. In fact he'd been particularly pleased with himself as he had finally helped several insomniacs have a pleasant eight hours.

A satisfying sense of achievement filled the stout little Guardian as he gazed over the expanse of Europe. He'd been protecting humanity for far longer than any of the others, he'd been around for countless centuries and he had never once considered doing anything else. Being able to bring good dreams to the children of the world was such a wonderful thing that he could not imagine anything else more worthwhile.

Sandy knew that he was the most powerful guardian, his centre was the most primal and as such the most raw. Pitch was perhaps one of the few spirits that were around before him and they were polar opposites of the same concept. But the good would always defeat the bad, because fear holds you back whereas dreams set you free. Sandy could create were Pitch could only corrupt.

Sandy frowned as he thought of the dark spirit. The great hero of the Golden Age had fallen so low and lost so much, not that he remembered. Pitch had lost all recollection of his life once he had released fear back into the universe. It was reflected in the spirit's name: Pitch Black. Kozmotis Pitchiner had died on that day millennia ago and now it was up to Sandy and his friends to protect the children, and unlike Kozmotis they wouldn't fail.

But even in their darkest hour, if the Guardians were ever unavailable Sandy knew there were other spirits out there who would help protect the children. Some had been guardians long ago but had relinquished the mantle as belief in them faded. But even they still kept a watchful eye.

Others however... Sandy shook his head. The less time spent thinking about them the better. When he had been the only Guardian he had faced most of them and had fended them off one by one. Then Aster came along, brash and bursting with life. Then North, joyous and large than life. Tooth appeared shortly after, beautiful and swift as the wind. Then finally, Jack became part of the dysfunctional family.

Despite the warm feeling that thoughts of his family brought, something made the Sandman feel ill at ease. Over the past few weeks children had disappeared without warning or reason and nightmares had become appearing once again. In his heart, Sandy knew that Pitch was once again stalking the shadows, but the Nightmare King would never again be allowed to wield any great power.

* * *

The lake didn't appear to be anything special. No ripple broke the calm reflection of the moon's light on the cold winter night. Pitch stood anxiously beneath the dark branches of an alder tree. Despite being free and slowly gaining strength, he did not yet feel confident to directly challenge the Man in the Moon, but soon he would. It was said that Tsar Lunar, scion of an ancient and loving dynasty had grown up without ever suffering a bad dream. It was nothing short of an insult to the Nightmare King, an insult he would soon repay.

But to repay that old insult the Nightmare King would need to deal with the Guardians. And that bumbling oaf North's yetis could prove an obstacle given their strength and numbers. So Pitch would require an army of dumb muscle to match the Guardian's own, and with any luck one without much brainpower aside from being able to understand the words "guardian" and "smash".

And so, under the shadow of an alder by a still lake, Pitch waited.

* * *

Jamie was safe.

After hours of warding off hypothermia and ensuring that there wasn't any water left in the poor boy's lungs, Jamie now lay quietly in one of North's guest beds under a mountain of blankets.

Jack hadn't moved from his space on the edge of the bed.

He sat clutching his staff with such force that his pale knuckles now seemed bone white, as though he was anticipating Pitch to attack at any moment.

North had to return to his work, but he had visited often as much to check up on Jack as he was on Jamie. The old spirit was deeply concerned with the situation. There was a bond between Jack and Jamie, a deep bond at that, and it was apparent that Pitch knew this well enough to have targeted the boy directly and exploit Jack's care.

What deepened North's worry was his uncertainty over Jack's own feelings towards the mortal. Jack had always had a soft spot for his first believer and North worried that as Jamie had grown that Jack's feelings had as well. The spirit had been alone for so long that the belief Jamie had could easily confuse Jack and make him believe it was more than platonic. North himself didn't care whether Jack loved men, women or yetis. Well he might care if it were the yetis because it might interfere with productivity and the language barrier could prove tricky. But what worried North was that if Jack did care for Jamie in that way, he would be forced to watch as the years played their horrible game on the mortal and Jack would see his love grow old and eventually die while he remained eternally young.

That was a great sorrow for many spirits, to see those they loved pass on.

North viewed Jack as family, sort of as though he were a nephew, and he worried that Jack would get hurt. As he stood watching in the doorway, he rested an arm on the frame and sighed as he saw Jack stare forlornly at the sleeping human.

" Fear not Jack. In morning, Jamie will be awake and no doubt you will both be tormenting elves yes?" he laughed, resting a comforting hand on the youngest Guardian's back. Jack gave the Cossack a sad smile before his gaze returned to Jamie's sleeping form.

"Why would he do this?" Jack asked. His voice was so quiet and he seemed so small. "How could Pitch do this to anyone?" Jack looked at the North, his eyes glistening with tears as he struggled to understand Pitch's motivation for hurting anyone.

"I do not know Jack." North answered and his shoulders slumped. He pulled the younger man into his chest and embraced him as a parent does their child. He soon felt the younger spirit sobbing into him. "Pitch is monster. Monsters do not like making people happy, only making them hurt."

"I'll kill him." Jack managed through sobs, his voice hoarse from crying. "I swear to the Man in the Moon, I'll kill him with my bare hands."

North froze in shock, though he soon gripped Jack with his arms and forced the boy to look at him. "Do not ever say that Jack." He scolded. "You are hurting now because you are afraid. You would never hurt anyone because you are good person, you are not monster like Pitch."

He pulled Jack to his chest once more as the spirit continued to shake and cry.

"I don't care." He said in a small voice. "I don't want him to lay another hand on anyone ever again."

North brushed Jack's hair soothingly with his hands, and whispered in his ear.

"I know you want to protect them Jack, but it is not the answer. Jamie would not want you to do this to yourself. So hush now, you must be strong for Jamie, he will need you when he wakes up da?"

North cradled the younger spirit for a while longer and began to sing a lullaby from his own childhood, of a maiden who ventured into the woods to get light for her evil stepmother and ended up marrying a prince and living happily ever after.

Once Jack had fallen asleep, North carried him into another room, tucked him in and then headed to the library. Something else was at work here and it made North uneasy because for once he didn't need his stomach to know that something far more sinister was going on.

* * *

At the lake Pitch walked towards a solitary standing stone. It had been erected in an earlier age, where men feared the darkness and sang spells to keep it at bay. It had been a primitive time but the people of that age were strong with magic that had now been forgotten. Along with its twin at the opposite end of the lake, the carvings had long since faded from its face. But Pitch could feel the enchantments beating like a faint pulse beneath the time worn exterior.

Even as Pitch traced the worn runes, he could feel the magic dancing beneath his touch. It was subtle magic, you would never notice it unless you sought it in the first place but it was eternally potent. It sensed the presence of the Nightmare King and such old magic often displayed behaviour akin to a crude sentience.

But this was human magic, a magic Pitch could not harness. He had never been human, and despite his ability to summon the primal forces of fear and terror, such magic that had been forged by man could only be undone by man. Pitch usually cared little for witchcraft, but tonight he would need its aid to gather his army.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

Pitch turned and barely stopped himself from attacking at the last moment.

Holding up a lantern to the megalith, Pitch saw his ally trace the faint carvings with his free hand. The faint yellow-green glow of the lantern partially illuminating his face, though much of it remained hidden by the ragged remains of a red cloak.

"You can break the enchantments, can't you?" Pitch asked, fixing the shorter figure with a pointed stare.

The other spirit flashed a grin and pushed himself off the standing stone. As he turned, Pitch noticed the pale skin and faint purple lips of his accomplice. The complexion of the dead.

"Perhaps." He answered the Nightmare King. "These spells were often sealed in blood and as such require a similar offering in order to break them. In this case they were woven by a powerful sorcerer and it will take time as well as life. I will require a day or two."

"Time." Pitch hissed. "How much time do you think we possess?"

He had rushed at the cloaked spirit, and gripping him by the throat had lifted him off the ground.

"We have little time to move, once the Guardians discover our little ploy they'll be after us in no time at all."

Releasing the other, Pitch stalked away from the stone. The cloaked figure picked himself up and dusted the earth from his clothes.

"Then perhaps we could use a distraction? Something to draw their gaze while I break the warding?"

"Until we have released the Sjotroll his kin will not join us. My nightmares are few in number to attack the guardians and you do not want to risk your little hinky-punks too early now do you Will o' the Wisp?" Pitch spat.

Will grinned at the spirit of Fear. "Well who ever said attacking? Perhaps we just need to send them on a wild hunt? After all, there are others who use the same methods as myself."

"Oh..." Pitch smirked in understanding. "You mean her? Yes, she would provide a welcome distraction and might even deal with them for us."

Both spirits began to laugh, Pitch's golden eyes matched by the faint green balefire glow of Will's.

* * *

**Word count: 2669**

**A/N: So here is my first OC of the fic and our secondary villain the Will o' the Wisp.**

**I will eventually expand on the mythology of this wonderful character of folklore and I have adapted him slightly for the purpose of the story. But yeah we'll be seeing more of this chappie before we're through and we'll see more of his motivation in helping the Nightmare King. And what exactly are they trying to free?**

**Please let me know what you thought about this chapter. Is there something you feel I could expand upon, improve or alter? Was there a bit you loved, a bit you disliked? Then let me know so I can work to improve it!**

**It's not my favourite chapter by far and I'm sorry for it being late I've been busy with it being the last week of term and work deadlines. But a few weeks off with no exams to revise for this time so lots of writing. Anyway, it's now the solstice here in the UK so Merry Yule!**

**DM**


	3. Angst, Questions and Witchcraft

**A/N:**Sorry for the delay. With the holidays, hassle and coming down with a cold on Boxing Day I've been slightly out of commission. However I have gotten around to planning out most of the chapters so updates should be a lot more regular from now on.

Also I hope I'm not the only one getting slightly annoyed at the high amount of self-insert Mary Sue fics in this fandom? Especially given that most of them aren't even trying to hide it with an attempt at plot. Grr. Thankfully I found this e-card on deviantart (Newsgomergirl you nailed it) which sums up my feelings nicely:

?q=rise+of+the+guardians+oc&offset=120#/d5odv54

Anyway moving on:

**Chapter 3: Angst, Questions and Witchcraft**

Dawn never came to Santoff Clausen during the long and dark months of winter. Instead the fortified village was illuminated by several magic lamps that gave a dim glow. But outside of the safety of the walls, darkness ruled in the unending night. It would be another few months until the dawn rose over the horizon and spring returned to the Arctic.

Jack looked around the room with heavy eyes that struggled to open after such a deep sleep. He hadn't dreamed at all while he lay in the large bed but he felt relaxed and rested. It was as if the room had taken away all his worries and cares while he slumbered. He suspected that North or Sandy had worked some magic into the room to help with relaxing, he'd be sure to ask later.

Jack stretched his arms high in an attempt to fight off the last vestiges of sleep. He brought his hands to rub his eyes, and shuffled out of the furs. Blindly he reached for his staff, and once its comforting familiarity was in his hand he made his way to the door.

In his sleep addled state Jack tried to remember why he was even at Santoff Clausen. Hadn't he been in North America yesterday? That's right, he'd gone to see Jamie, even given him a snow day so the kid would have no choice but to bother with him. But...wait, hadn't he waited for Jamie for an awful long time? And then... Pitch?

Jack's eyes bolted open as it all came back to him. The snow flurry. Jack waiting on Jamie's bed. Pitch's sneering voice in his ear as he darted through the window. Jamie lying limp in his arms.

Jack broke into a sprint as he raced through the hallways to find his friend, nimbly avoiding both yetis and elves.

Jack mustered his courage and slowly pushed the heavy oak door open. "Jamie?" he called in, "Jamie are you...oh..."

Jack's face fell as he saw the other boy lying still and silent in the bed. Jack feared the worst, and on cautious legs taking hesitant steps he made his way over to the bed. His fears were alleviated somewhat by the faint rise and fall of Jamie's chest.

_Breathing._ Jack thanked the heavens. _Faint, but still breathing._

Setting his staff down at the foot of the bed, Jack turned to examine Jamie's face for any signs of awareness. He reached out a trembling hand in order to move a stray lock of hair from Jamie's closed eyes. Jack wanted nothing more at this moment than to see those wonderful eyes open and shine with amusement as if, even now, this were all some kind of joke.

Jamie had grown into a handsome young man, and over the past three years, the love Jack had for him had changed. No evolved, from admiration for his first believer and an attraction to the kind and wonderful man he had become. He'd been hoping to confess his love yesterday, but Pitch's attack had brought back the painful and terrifying reminder of Jamie's mortality and that was something Jack could not change.

Tears fell and froze silently on Jack's cheeks.

"Jack?" North asked, quietly walking into the room. Both of them knew what the answer would be.

"He still hasn't woken up North."

"I fear as much. I hoped it was exhaustion, but now I fear that Pitch is using some spell to keep Jamie in sleep. I feel it in my belly."

"What?" Jack turned, not understanding what North meant. "Pitch is using his powers to keep Jamie asleep?"

North shook his head. "No, if Pitch were keeping Jamie asleep then we would have heard from Sandy by now. I fear that Pitch is using some kind of witchcraft to do this."

"Witchcraft? But that's..." Jack couldn't work out how Pitch, essentially a god of fear would use something like witch craft. After all it was just kid's stuff, right? Like Guardians and bogeymen...

North, sensing Jack's confusion attempted to think of the best way to explain. His face lit up and an "ooh ooh" escaped his lips before he frowned and scoffed. This continued for a further two minutes before he jumped up with an "Aha!" and a triumphant smile.

"Think of you and Sandy. You use magic to make ice and dreams yes?"

Jack nodded.

"Well it is magic. But it comes from your centre, so you do not need to think about it to use. Now Witchcraft also uses magic, but unlike your magic that comes from centre, witchcraft needs words and rituals in order to work."

Jack nodded hesitantly as he processed the information. "So Pitch has used a spell on Jamie, to keep him asleep?"

North nodded enthusiastically. "I believe so. I have looked in library for spell but it is not in any of my books. If I am correct then if we can break spell then Jamie should wake up. But first we need to find the spell."

"So how do we find it?" Jack asked.

"First: we call other Guardians. They may know of other spirit who may know the spell. Two: We go get spell together and bring it back and break it." North concluded his points by smacking his one hand into the other's palm as if he'd concocted a battle plan. Before waiting for a response he had turned on his heel and strode from the room.

_All of the Guardians? _Jack winces. _That meant Aster as well._

He'd not spoken to the Guardian of Hope in over a month, and he was still slightly angry at the pooka.

* * *

Dawn slowly crept over the peaks of the mountains, and began to brighten a small Austrian village. Above the sleeping buildings, a flock of tooth fairies had gathered after a good night's work. Central Austrian Delta Squadron, who numbered twelve fairies in all, busily exchanged a series of high pitched squeaks as they made sure that they had covered all the necessary houses in the village. After all the needed checks were done, such as ensuring the correct amount of change had been given, the squadron began their flight back to the Tooth Fairy's Castle.

The village was bordered to the south east by a large and expansive wood of heavy evergreens that climbed towards the top of the mountain, only ending once the snow was too heavy and the ground too cold to colonise. Delta Squadron had flown two miles over the forest canopy when a bestial cry startled and deafened them. A cry that definitely did not belong to any creature of the natural world. The sudden startle had resulted in the teeth being dropped, and it was only after the captain noticed their falling charges did Delta Squadron dart after them and into the wood.

Eleven teeth were recovered without making it passed the canopy, but one had fallen passed the canopy and into the leaf litter of a barren ash tree. But the fairies would not descend from the thick cover of the evergreen bough, for they had spotted the monster.

Crouching near a jutting rocky outcrop was a beast. Huge and shaggy with fur it was far greater than any man, it's shoulders nearly four foot across and the fairies not wanting to guess how tall it would stand. They had almost mistaken it for a yeti, but the four large horns protruding from its head clearly marked it for something else entirely. It's face was the colour of tanned leather, with the large golden eyes of a hunter and pointed misshapen teeth of a carnivore. The fairies, scared that they were prepared themselves for an attack when they realised that the beast cradled the small form of a young boy. It was clear to the fairies what such a fierce beast wished for the child and they went to make their assault. They only stopped when the loud thunder of heavy hoof beats permeated the wood.

A large grey mare strode into the woodland, having descended through the tree line with no scratch of earthly care. Astride its back loomed a proud figure with golden eyes. Sensing the potential danger and that they would be of no help, the fairies bolted. They would inform their queen. She would be able to help!

The mare slowly crept forward, but stopped when a pearly white object caught the attention of her rider. The figure dismounted and stooped low to retrieve the tooth that lay forgotten in the leaf litter. The owner was far back down in the village which meant there was only one explanation for why it was this far out.

The beast got to its feet. It stood at six foot seven and as it lumbered over it took care with ensuring the protection of its charge. Slowly he draped the limp form of the young boy over the mare. The figure as if broken from deep thought mounted her horse. Brushing a stray piece of silver hair from her face she nodded to the beast.

"I expect that we shall be having company. Fetch the others and come to my cottage so we may host our guests."

The creature garbled an incomprehensible reply and lumbered back into the deeper parts of the forest to gather his kin.

The horse rose once more into the air and made for the cottage near the summit of the mountain. A child had been endangered, a tooth left forgotten and Frau Perchta was abroad.

* * *

Although it was faint in the morning light, Pitch could make out the faint dance of an aurora.

* * *

**Word count: 1,700**

A/N:

A shorter than usual chapter but I'm much happier with it. I feel as if I'm getting a hang of the pacing at last.

So yeah, not very action heavy yet but we've learned a few things: Jack loves Jamie. There's witchcraft afoot and Frau Perchta is abroad.

But still there are questions unanswered: Who's room had Jack been staying in? What curse has Pitch used to keep Jamie asleep? What are the implications now that Perchta is involved?

As always reviews are greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think and if you have any pointers!

Cheers,  
DM


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